


As Much Myself As I Am

by jashinist_feminist



Category: Naruto
Genre: Anal Sex, Dom/sub, Established Relationship, M/M, Puppet Sex, Sex, Threesome - M/M/M, Voyeurism, hidan gets fucked by a puppet, puppet dick, sasori is nuts, so is hidan
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-25
Updated: 2018-10-25
Packaged: 2019-08-07 12:21:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16408421
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jashinist_feminist/pseuds/jashinist_feminist
Summary: Sasori tests out a new technique that his Sandaime Kazekage puppet can do...Hidan is the willing participant.





	As Much Myself As I Am

**Author's Note:**

  * For [shipcat](https://archiveofourown.org/users/shipcat/gifts).



> this fic is a little bit different to what I usually like to do, but it was my lovely friend Kitty's birthday, so how could I resist challenging myself to make something different and make her a very happy Kitty? Hahaha XD
> 
> I hope you love it Kitty! <3 <3 <3

Sasori hunched over, his eyes flickering down to the limb laying in his lap as he worked. The atmosphere in his room was that of silence – sheer, blissful silence. He basked in it, enjoying the solitude, allowing it to calm his soul. Outside, several rows of corridors away, he heard several doors slam and the echoes of voices bouncing from the metal walls.

Sasori ignored them, reminding himself that it was the Akatsuki members far away from him and he was alone, as he had longed to be for days.

A mission that consisted of several days whilst being forced in Deidara’s company, being provoked about his art, and then whilst in the process of attempting to ignore Deidara, having Deidara _actually shove his face in Hiruko’s and shout “are you alive danna?!” through Hiruko’s nostrils_ was enough to drive Sasori mad.

Sasori hunched further over, hearing the heavy trudge of Kakuzu’s footsteps past his door. As much as Kakuzu was one of the more tolerable members of the Akatsuki, Sasori was grateful when he heard his footsteps pass his room, as Kakuzu went to presumable count his money or read one of his books.

There was another heavy footfall, although this time the steps were fast and eager. Sasori’s door was yanked open, sickly yellow light blasted in, and there stood Hidan, still wearing his robe and with his scythe attached to his back. His lavender eyes shone brightly as he saw Sasori, and a grin broke across his lips.

“Did you miss me?” he sang gleefully.

“Not particularly,” retorted Sasori.

Hidan’s shoulders slumped, and he immediately pouted. “Don’t I get a welcome home kiss?”

Sasori rolled his eyes, but it was a fond roll of his eyes. “No.”

“Why not?” demanded Hidan.

“Because I’m working.”

Hidan wandered in and closed the door behind himself. He settled down on a stool opposite Sasori, then leant forwards, the triple-blades of the scythe leaning over his shoulder. His expression turned strangely sympathetic. “Did Dei really piss you off this time?”

Sasori leant back, further away, but his shoulders unclenched.

“Just a little,” he confessed.

“He means well. You know he likes you, he calls you danna,” assured Hidan, crossing his legs and making himself more comfortable upon the stool. He kicked off his sandals and wrinkled his socks down his legs, before kicking them off as well, flexing his freed toes. “You should try trundling around with Kakuzu and only getting to hear ‘no’ ‘yes’ or ‘maybe’ in response to everything. If I’m lucky, I might even get a ‘shut up.’ And that’s on a good day!”

“I think that would be preferential.”

“No, man, no, you’ve got to talk to somebody! Otherwise you go mad with all this pent up stuff…” Hidan trailed off, and sighed heavily.

Sasori glanced up at him, then bent down, continuing to work. As much as he wanted to engage Hidan and soothe away Hidan’s irritation at a lack of interaction, he simply wasn’t in the mood in his present condition. He wanted to hear nothing but the whir of his thoughts as he repaired his battle worn puppets, converted the new additions to his supplies, until Deidara’s childish babbling faded away and he was left with nothing but his thoughts.

“Want some help?” offered Hidan, gesturing to Sasori’s work.

Sasori shook his head. “You don’t know what you’re doing.”

“You could teach me.”

“I don’t have the patience and you don’t have the chakra control for puppetry.”

“Aww, man, I just want us to spend some time together!” protested Hidan. He gazed up at Sasori with wide puppy eyes. “What do you want to do?”

“What do you want to do?” retorted Sasori.

“You know what I want to do,” Hidan waggled his eyebrows suggestively.

“And that’s meant to be attractive, I suppose,” dismissed Sasori.

Hidan howled with laughter, nearly falling off the stool he sat on. Sasori couldn’t resist smiling to himself, the small humour warming his dampened spirits somewhat.

Taking the invitation, Hidan stood up off the stool, and wandered a few paces closer to Sasori. He sat down at Sasori’s side, and then leant his silvery head in Sasori’s lap. Sasori lifted his hand, and laid it in Hidan’s hair. He couldn’t feel the silvery strands, but he knew that Hidan could feel the weight of his hand and that Hidan would find it comforting. In return, Sasori admired the spun silver hue of Hidan’s hair. It reminded him of the threads of a spider’s web, glinting in the moonlight.

He felt Hidan draw strength from the company, and in return, Sasori felt his drain. But it was worth it. He mustered the last of his dregs of tolerance for Hidan, knowing full well how irritated he could be by company and how it was the opposite for Hidan.

They stayed like that for a little while, until Hidan turned his head, and looked up at Sasori. Maintaining the eye contact, he puckered his lips and laid a chaste kiss on Sasori’s hand. He gazed back up at Sasori’s face, his chin resting beside Sasori’s hand, waiting for a reaction.

Sasori made an involuntary movement that reminded him of swallowing when he still had a human body. He knew that his mouth would have gone dry, and felt as though it was full of lead.

“I’m sorry, Hidan,” said Sasori, his voice heavy. “I’m just not in the mood right now.”

“That’s ok,” said Hidan, lifting his head by an inch. Disappointment certainly shone in his eyes, but he did his best conceal it for Sasori’s sake. Sasori was thankful for that, for his consideration.

Silence filled the room again, but this time it wasn’t pleasant silence. It was an awkward silence, and Sasori disliked it immensely. He disliked making Hidan feel sad and rejected, when it was not the case. He and Hidan knew each other, knew how they felt, and did their best to accommodate their clashing personalities. Sometimes one had to give, so that one could take what they needed, and vice versa.

“You know…maybe I could help you relax…” offered Hidan. His voice was soft, soothing. “Since you like control…I’ll do everything you say…maybe…”

Hidan licked at the tips of Sasori’s fingers deviously, before taking the wooden joints into his mouth. Sasori couldn’t feel it, but he was aware of the pressure of Hidan’s mouth closed around the digits.

Seeing Hidan on his knees before him, almost begging and pleading for some affection, was extremely gratifying. Sasori felt his tolerance levels rise again, and silently agreed with Hidan, that exerting his dominance over someone who _wanted_ to be dominated and told what to do, would help alleviate his mood and ease the tension nagging at the back of his skull. Suddenly, he was glad that Hidan was here, staring up at him with his puppy eyes.

Sasori’s eyes flickered away from Hidan for a moment, as he thought to himself about what he could make Hidan do to entertain him tonight. They fell on the scrolls he had laid on the table, recognising the scroll he had sealed Sandaime inside for storage whilst not in use.

Sandaime had always been Sasori’s favourite puppet, for the personal connotations and for the difficulty that Sasori had experienced in obtaining him. For these reasons, whenever Sasori looked at him, he felt something that resembled happiness rising in his chest. Sometimes, to Sasori, it felt like Sandaime was Sasori, an extension of himself and who he was.

And of all Sasori’s puppets, he supposed that Sandaime was the most aesthetically pleasing.

Sasori conjured his chakra strings, and pulled the scroll towards him. Hidan watched quietly, his chin resting on Sasori’s thigh absent-mindedly, seemingly lost in thought. Sasori petted his hair with his free hand, and then laid the scroll in his lap.

“What do you think of my Sandaime Kazekage puppet, Hidan?” asked Sasori, his voice low and cautious.

“He’s cool,” Hidan turned his head to face Sasori. “You worked hard for him, he means a lot to you, and he keeps you safe in battle.”

“He does,” agreed Sasori, running his fingers along the scroll. He turned back to Hidan, and met his gaze. “Hidan, how would you feel if Sandaime took my place for me tonight?”

Hidan licked his lips. “What do you mean?”

“I’m just not in the mood to be intimate myself, I’m afraid,” confessed Sasori. “You know how I think of you, but tonight I can’t…I need to feel alone tonight. Maybe tomorrow I will feel differently. But on the other hand…Sandaime is mine. It will be like being with me. And I’ll be here the whole time, controlling his movements. What do you say?”

Hidan’s eyes stared curiously at the scroll.

Sasori truly didn’t know how Hidan would respond.

On one hand, Hidan was a young and healthy man, with a strong libido, and Sasori had previously been surprised at the amount of freaky activities and downright filthy things that Hidan was ‘up for.’

On the other hand, Sasori knew well that many people thought his affectations and bonds with his puppets was ‘weird’ and didn’t want to come near his puppets. Even Deidara made fun of them from time to time, although Sasori’s retorts about Deidara’s sculptures more than compensated for the insults to his masterpieces.

Whatever Hidan’s response would be, it piqued Sasori’s curiosity. Maybe he would come to better understand Hidan and his thoughts and feelings of immortality and the self. If Hidan said no, Sasori would understand, and if he said yes, then Sasori would be able to see what else Sandaime could do, given that Sasori had never used Sandaime in such a manner before, on himself or any other person.

“You’d control him the whole time?” asked Hidan, his eyes fixing on Sasori’s fingertips, where he would create his chakra puppet strings.

Sasori nodded.

“I’d sit just a few metres away. You’ll be able to see me and talk to me, tell me to stop if you need to,” he explained. He reached down, and stroked a stray strand of grey hair between his fingertips. In the dim light of Sasori’s room, it glowed silver. Sasori lowered his voice, to almost a soft whisper. “Would you like that?”

Grey-brown eyes met lavender eyes.

“It would be just like being with you?” asked Hidan.

“Of course,” said Sasori. “Sandaime…is as much myself as I am.”

Hidan nodded.

“Come,” said Sasori. He stood up, carrying the scroll, and tucked the stool he had perched on beneath his arm. He led Hidan into the bed that was concealed behind an alcove. Sasori didn’t know why they had included a bed in the room that he had been assigned, given that he had no need to sleep. But nonetheless, when he and Hidan had begun playing this game, it had proven rather useful.

Sasori laid the stool down beside the bed, so that he would be sitting three metres away, giving him an optimate view of the bed, like a theatre stage. His heart core suddenly felt a fluttering sensation. Sasori thought to himself that it was strange, but had little time to sit dwelling on it, as Hidan was glancing around the room uncertainly.

“It’s all right,” assured Sasori. His hand reached up, and unclasped Hidan’s cloak for him. He let his wooden fingertips trail over Hidan’s bare chest, knowing that his contact would be a huge turn-on and reassurance for Hidan at the same time. He noticed the dusky pink nipples on Hidan’s chest taunted with interest, and reached up, lightly tweaking one. Hidan’s breath hitched, and Sasori let his hand trail across the immortal flesh, pinching the other.

Sasori released Hidan, and snatched the blanket from the bed, leaving the mattress for Hidan and Sandaime. He draped it over his shoulders, like a kingly robe. He settled back down on the stool, clutching Sandaime’s scroll on his lap.

“Hidan,” commanded Sasori, narrowing his already half-closed eyes with interest. “Take off your clothes.”

Hidan grinned, knowing very well that Sasori liked to look at him. Sasori had to admit that this was true. Hidan had a very nice, well sculpted body, one that wouldn’t look out of place on a classical painting. He was the very epitome of youth and physical perfection, setting it off with his unusual hair and eye colour.

“Do I need to repeat myself?” asked Sasori, when Hidan didn’t obey him immediately.

“No,” said Hidan. His hands went to his trousers, unbuckling them. He slid them down his toned thighs, his knees, then his calves, and finally his feet. He laid them over the end of the bed, and then perched on the edge of the bed, looking to Sasori for instruction.

“All of it, Hidan,” he repeated.

Hidan’s hands laid on the waistband of his boxers. Being a younger shinobi, Sasori noticed that both Hidan and Deidara preferred more modern alternatives for underwear. Since becoming a puppet, Sasori no longer bothered with such underclothing. He watched as Hidan slipped them over his hips, exposing himself.

Hidan wasn’t hard yet, but he wasn’t soft either. His dick was just peeping up with curious interest. Sasori absentmindedly thought to himself that it was cute. He unravelled the scroll on the floor, then climbed up off the stool to kneel before it. Keeping his eyes locked on Hidan’s, Sasori licked his thumb, and then laid it on the paper.

The was a rush of air, and then Sandaime appeared before them both. Simply seeing him put Sasori at ease immensely. He sat back down on the stool, and lifted an arm out of the blanket. Chakra strings emerged from his fingertips, locking themselves onto every point of Sandaime. Sasori felt the link between them establish, and felt calm.

Sandaime stared blankly ahead, straight through Hidan, into a listless horizon.

“Hidan, Sandaime is going to begin by kissing you for me,” explained Sasori, giving a wave of his arm. Sandaime glided forwards into Hidan’s embrace. “Kiss him back.”

Sasori tilted Sandaime’s head, and his lips parted. Sasori watched Hidan do the same, and Hidan’s plump pink lips met Sandaime’s carved wooden ones.

Sasori felt something resembling warmth flood his chest. There was something very interesting about watching a loved one kiss. Sasori noticed the way Hidan’s pale lashes fluttered against his cheek, how his eyebrows gently lifted, and the gentle movements of Hidan’s mouth against Sandaime’s inanimate one.

Sasori knew very well the wooden embrace of a puppet; recalling the puppets he carved in his parents’ likeness all those years ago. Touching them, holding them, had been such a hollow experience, and Sasori knew that touching him now would produce the same effect. Yet Hidan seemed to like Sasori’s touch, seemed to like his embrace, and crave more of it. Sasori still could not understand why, despite asking several subtly-phrased questions on the matter. Each time Hidan responded with something along the lines of, _‘he (Hidan) loved who he (Sasori) really was, no matter what his body was like.’_

But in Sasori’s arms, and now in Sandaime’s, Hidan was happy, and that was what Sasori supposed was the important thing. Sasori waved his arm again, and Sandaime lifted his arms and laid them on Hidan’s arms, pulling him closer.

“You look so lovely, Hidan,” stated Sasori.

Hidan’s arms lifted up, and he laid them on Sandaime’s waist, stepping closer into Sandaime’s embrace. Something that Sasori wanted to call happiness bubbled away in his chest, that Hidan had accepted Sandaime, that Sandaime was holding Hidan and making Hidan happy, that the two people who had come to mean so much to Sasori were both here and holding each other.

Impatience rattled at the back of Sasori’s skull.

“Hidan,” said Sasori, ceasing Sandaime’s movements. “Would you be so kind as to undress Sandaime?”

Hidan ceased kissing, and took a step back. His hands reached out. Sasori was surprised to realise that Hidan’s hands were shaking too. Sasori wondered if it was nerves or anticipation for the act that was to come. Nerves seemed very unlike Hidan. Anticipation was a likelier cause.

Hidan deftly unlaced the robe that Sasori wrapped Sandaime in with swift, nimble fingers. With this vantage point, Sasori could see that Hidan was now half-hard, and his growing erection brushed against Sandaime’s robe.

The blue robe slithered from Sandaime’s shoulders, falling to the floor and rippling like the ocean.

It felt weird to see Sandaime naked like this. Sasori usually only saw Sandaime naked whenever he was performing any upgrades or repairs gained in battle to him. The last time Sasori had felt the need to perform any major updates was after Konan nearly shattered Sandaime to smithereens. That had been a close call, and Konan had jokingly threatened afterwards that she had used her paper to etch her initial on Sandaime somewhere. Sasori had examined every inch of Sandaime, but seen no K initial in Konan’s curling handwriting.

Yet.

Witnessing Sandaime in this vulnerable state was natural for Sasori, since he was Sandaime’s carer, and it was normal. But to see him vulnerable and in another person’s embrace felt almost strange, as if Sasori was spying on him.

But a thrill shot through Sasori, that he was controlling this situation, and what Sandaime could or could not do. He realised how intently he must feel for Hidan, given that he was allowing Hidan to be so close to his puppet, and how much he must trust Hidan, and how much Hidan must trust Sasori, to allow Sasori to experiment with the techniques and control over his puppet that he had on him.

“What a beautiful sight,” sighed Sasori. “Hidan, Sandaime is going to touch you now. Are you ready?”

Hidan nodded, his eyes darkening with desire.

Sasori waved his arm, the chakra strings pulling Sandaime along. Sandaime’s hand outstretched, laying it on Hidan’s chest, then tweaking his nipples, an imitation of Sasori’s earlier movements. Hidan grinned, exchanging another glance with Sasori.

“He’s just as much myself as I am,” repeated Sasori. He felt the connection between himself and Sandaime thrum through the chakra strings, a connection that extended to Hidan through Sandaime’s touch.

Sandaime’s hands moved down Hidan’s body. Sasori admired the smooth motion that he commanded in Sandaime, as his hands roved across Hidan’s waist, his hips, then down to both of his buttocks, where he lightly squeezed.

Hidan gave a playful grin.

“I know you like that,” said Sasori lowly. “I know you, Hidan.”

Sandaime’s hand outstretched, then slapped Hidan on the right buttocks. Sasori watched Hidan’s flesh ripple from the impact, and heard Hidan’s low moan. His erection was now proud, and stood upright.

The idea of a powerful puppet like Sandaime dominating over a powerful shinobi like Hidan, whilst being the master of said puppet, was a very appealing one. The irritation that Sasori had felt from tolerating Deidara’s idle chatter earlier had faded away, and now Sasori felt like himself again. There was curiosity in discovering new acts he could command his puppets to do, pleasure in his dominance over Hidan and Sandaime, and that he was in control of the situation. He could decide what noise he heard and what acts he witnessed.

“Hidan,” said Sasori boldly. “Bend over the bed so I can see your hole.”

Hidan stared back at Sasori, his pose cocky and arrogant. “What for? You’ve seen it plenty of times before.”

“Do I need to repeat myself?” asked Sasori, his voice turning cold and harsh. “I want to see it again. _Bend over_.”

Hidan did as commanded. As he bent over, the cheeks of his buttocks spread wide, revealing his pink puckered entrance to Sasori.

Sasori gave a small noise of approval. “Perfect. But you’re not ready yet.”

Sasori waved Sandaime over. Sandaime stood beside Hidan, and laid out his hand, so that it hovered beside Hidan’s mouth. Sasori attached two chakra strings to two of Sandaime’s fingers, and held them out.

“Wet them,” ordered Sasori.

Hidan lapped at Sandaime’s fingers with his pink pointy tongue. Sasori outstretched them further, so they slipped inside Hidan’s mouth, and Hidan sucked at them. When they dripped with spit, Sasori moved Sandaime’s hand away, to stand behind him. Sandaime’s fingers slipped down Hidan’s crack. Hidan released a gasp of breath, as Sasori made Sandaime rub the puckered entrance in a circle with the moist wooden fingers.

“Does that feel good?” asked Sasori.

“Fuck…yes…” Hidan whimpered into the mattress of the bed.

“This is just the beginning,” said Sasori. “Wet them more.”

Sandaime’s fingers slipped back into Hidan’s mouth, and his tongue lapped over them again. Sasori moved them free, and then this time, slipped the first of Sandaime’s fingers inside of Hidan’s entrance. Hidan softly whined, bucking his hips, and so Sasori slipped the second inside. He moved his arm back and forth, the chakra strings guiding Sandaime’s fingers in a similar motion, while Hidan gently moaned against the covers.

“Is Sandaime making you nice and wet?” asked Sasori.

“Yes,” Hidan whispered.

“Good,” said Sasori. “Sandaime is going to be inside of you tonight. Get on your knees, and make him nice and wet too.”

Hidan stood up from bending over the bed, and then knelt in front of Sandaime.

Sasori had saved Sandaime’s manhood. He hadn’t saved his own, finding that particular piece of flesh to be very pointless on his body. Sasori did not feel the loss of his manhood, given that the desires of the flesh were particularly low for him, if not entirely non-existent. He much preferred to watch, rather than participate, or to pleasure his partners with his hands, if he ever found someone worthy of receiving his attentions.

But when Sasori captured Sandaime and converted him, he found he couldn’t bear to alter Sandaime anymore than necessary. And so, he had saved Sandaime’s manhood, and there it stuck out, permanently wooden.

Hidan opened his mouth, and took Sandaime inside. He moved back and forth, moisture forming in an ‘o’ shape around the mid-shaft, travelling along the expanding girth.

“Further, Hidan. I know you can take him further than that,” said Sasori.

Hidan gagged, but then took Sandaime further. His eyes watered, but soon, he had taken Sandaime entirely into his mouth. Sandaime’s manhood was coated in spit.

“Perfect,” muttered Sasori. “Let’s begin. Hidan, you may remove your mouth now.”

Hidan pulled back, panting for breath. Sasori waved Sandaime onto his back, lying on the bed.

Hidan sneered disappointingly. “I thought he was going to fuck me?”

“And he is,” scolded Sasori. He knew what he was doing, and what he wanted to see. And Sasori wanted to see this _clearly_. “Unless, Hidan, you want me to leave you like this.”

Forced to concede, Hidan sighed. “No.”

“In that case, when you are ready, Hidan, whilst facing me, lower yourself onto Sandaime, taking him inside of you.”

Hidan did as instructed, turning so that he faced Sasori, and spread his legs. Between Hidan’s legs, he watched as the tip of Sandaime’s manhood brushed against Hidan’s entrance, saw Hidan’s expression grow blissful as it tickled the nerves of his outer hole, and then watched it sink further inside of Hidan. Hidan winced, concentrating, biting on his lower lip the further down he went.

Sasori waved his hand, so that the chakra strings attached themselves to Sandaime’s arms, hands, and hips. He commanded Sandaime to lay his hands beneath Hidan’s thighs, lifting Hidan’s legs upright so that his feet were in the air. Hidan leant back, his hands steadying himself on the bed behind him.

In this position, he could see Sasori as he sat on the stool, and Sasori could see Hidan as Sandaime held him up to look at. Sasori’s eyes trailed down the length of Hidan’s body, from his head tilted back in bliss, his neck as his pulse raced, and his defined pectorals and abdomen. His legs were spread-eagled in the air, giving Sasori a perfect and clear view of the tender white thighs, the bed of thin silvery grey hairs nestled between them, containing the proud erection that stuck upright, and then further below, his stretched reddened hole, where Sandaime was already half-buried.

“Are you comfortable?” asked Sasori.

Hidan nodded.

“Are you ready for Sandaime to take you?” asked Sasori.

“Yes,” Hidan whimpered through gritted teeth.

“Then I shall begin,” decided Sasori. He lifted his hand, and then Sandaime’s hips jerked upwards, his manhood disappearing inside of Hidan, Hidan’s hole rippling and stretching to accommodate Sandaime’s girth. Sasori watched curiously, having never had any previous need to create such movements in Sandaime’s body with his puppet strings. This encounter was an experiment too.

Hidan cried out at the first thrust, and then again at the second, and Sasori wondered if it was hurting him, or if he was making Sandaime too rigorous in his movements. He slowed the pace, and Hidan whined, lowering his hips onto Sandaime.

Reassured, Sasori lifted his hand again, and Sandaime’s movements became faster again. Hidan cried out, and lifted his head up to try and meet Sasori’s gaze. Sasori stared back at him, their eyes meeting.

Hidan was already flushed in the face, and the flush had spread down his neck, to his chest. His hair had become mussed from its usual style, a few strands falling over his forehead, but there was nothing that Hidan could do. His toes curled as his feet bounced in the air in time with Sandaime’s thrusts.

In a way, Sasori felt that this was even more intimate than actively participating with Hidan. In this position, he could see everything that happened. There was no inch of Hidan or Sandaime’s skin that was covered. All laid unbared for Sasori’s eyes. He could see Hidan’s dick gleam wetly with precum, see Sandaime’s dick disappearing inside of and reappearing out of Hidan’s hole. Every facial expression that Hidan pulled, every sound that he made, every movement, Sasori could see and admire.

“Sasori,” Hidan cried out. “Sas…oh… _Sasori_.”

“Yes?” asked Sasori, raising an eyebrow.

“So good…its so good, Sasori,” confessed Hidan.

“You look good too, Hidan,” replied Sasori, crossing his legs as he watched. “Has anyone ever told you how beautiful you are?”

Hidan shook his head, even as Sandaime’s thrusting hips bounced him ever more vigorously.

“Well, you are very beautiful,” crooned Sasori. “Beautiful and everlasting. Just like my art. You and Sandaime are so perfect together like this.”

He noticed tears began to form at the corner of Hidan’s eyes, presumably from the intense pleasure of the situation. Sasori felt glad, glad that he had shared Sandaime to make Hidan feel like this, glad that Hidan had accepted Sandaime inside of him, and acknowledged the bond between Sasori and Sandaime.

Sasori lifted his hand, harder, and Sandaime’s movements increased in pace. Hidan cried out, and his head jerked back, his eyes rolling in their sockets so that Sasori could only see the blank whiteness of his eyes. To anyone who passed by Sasori’s door now, it would sound very obvious as to what Sasori and Hidan might be doing.

Yet Sasori was not ashamed and did not care for their thoughts. If Deidara were to walk in and witness the spectacle before him, Sasori was certain that he would howl with laughter upon witnessing the explosive so-called artist’s stunned expression. Or, if Kakuzu were to enter, and see what Sasori had managed to achieve that Kakuzu could not…oh, Sasori would even _pay_ to see that.

Briefly, Sasori wondered where things had worked out between him and Hidan, where things had not come to pass with their respective Akatsuki partners. There was a similar dynamic between Sasori and Hidan to that between Sasori and Deidara, as well as Hidan and Kakuzu to Hidan and Sasori. It would have made better sense, given that Sasori and Hidan saw Deidara and Kakuzu every day and spent long periods of time in each other’s company, and had further opportunities to explore and enact on any developing feelings.

But Sasori supposed the enforced company with their respective partners was what also prevented any such feelings developing. Part of what made Hidan and Sasori successful, if they could even be considered that, was the time they could spend apart in their own space. Sasori suspected Hidan would have liked more time together, but Sasori was content.

His eyes locked onto Hidan’s form, as he watched the younger man come more and more undone. Hidan’s cock bounced helplessly in time to Sandaime’s thrusting, and precum slowly trickled down the shaft. That Hidan was comfortable to be so exposed and vulnerable in front of Sasori was exceedingly flattering.

As a reward for this, Sasori was determined to make him come.

“I think its time,” announced Sasori, outstretching his hand further. “What do you think, Hidan?”

“Y-yes! Whatever you say!” Hidan gasped out. His cockiness and defiance was long gone, and in its place, was utter submission to Sasori’s mercy.

Sandaime’s thrusting grew more powerful, and Hidan’s wails became incoherent. Then, after one particularly strong motion that rocked through Hidan’s body, Hidan’s release spilled free. It spurted up into the air, before spattering over Hidan’s belly and his chest, like a stream of milky pearls tumbling from a necklace. Hidan groaned, sinking backwards onto Sandaime, his elbows resting on the bed behind him.

Sasori kept Sandaime’s hands where they were, holding Hidan’s legs spread open, liking the look of Hidan in this vulnerable position. He stood upright, letting the blanket slide off his shoulders, and gazed down at what he had created.

Sandaime lay listlessly below the softly whimpering Hidan, his eyes gazing at the ceiling. Sasori glanced down, and Sandaime’s eyes met Sasori’s. They seemed to glow in the low light, and Sasori wondered what Sandaime was thinking.

But then Hidan whimpered again, lifting one hand, his fingers outstretched to Sasori, gesturing for him to come closer. Sasori stepped closer, and Hidan caught the sleeve of Sasori’s cloak, curling his fingers into the fabric.

He looked so…sweet.

Sasori reached out, and stroked Hidan’s hair in response. Hidan’s face positively glowed, and his skin shone from his efforts. Hidan inclined his head towards Sasori’s fingers, wanting more of the contact, but Sasori was content to look.

This was what he had given Sandaime. An eternity with Sasori…and now Hidan.

Sasori could think of no better fate to offer his favourite puppet.

That he had shared Sandaime with Hidan made him feel closer than ever to him, as though now they were both truly connected to Sandaime. Sasori, emotionally. Hidan, physically.

Sasori let his forefinger run along the line of the shell of Hidan’s ear. Hidan watched him, his eyes shining.

“You did very well,” stated Sasori, and he was telling the truth. “I enjoyed watching you.”

His finger trailed from Hidan’s ear, stroking a silvery lock of hair instead.

“What do you say, Hidan?” asked Sasori.

“Th-thank you,” Hidan murmured. His hips twitched, as he lay impaled on Sandaime.

Beautiful.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you all for reading!
> 
> As usual with my work, comments, concerns, questions, please fire away! I'm happy to accept constructive criticism, as long as it is polite and respectful! <3


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